They tumble in me like buttons,
\nconnecting what has to be connected.
\nFor closing shirts and blouses,
\nputting sails to masts.
\nClosing books that have passages,
\nlife stopped here, writing messages,
\ncommemorating rain and voices.<\/p>\n
Words, boxes and cups
\nand bottles and crates of words.
\nHolding space and time together.
\nTrailing in the air,
\nwritten in the sand,
\ncarved on the pages of trees
\nin the furrows of their bark.<\/p>\n
Words chipped on stone,
\nleft in snow,
\nthe scrimshaw of sea and bone,
\neven when time began,
\nin the beginning
\nwhen the word was
\nprologue to everything. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
They tumble in me like buttons, connecting what has to be connected. For closing shirts and blouses, putting sails to masts. Closing books that have…<\/p>\n